Which flowers do you pick?
by Iceinherheart
Summary: "Choices, Oliver. It always comes down to choices with you." Malcolm's taunts were one of the few that really got him, knowing that the voice that he'd know since before even Thea existed was the one so desperate to take everything from everyone. "So I'm going to give you another. A trade, of sorts. I'll offer you, the one bargaining chip that I truly hold."


"Choices, Oliver. It always comes down to choices with you." Malcolm's taunts were one of the few that really got him, knowing that the voice that he'd know since before even Thea existed was the one so desperate to take everything from everyone, just because it had all been snatched from him. "So I'm going to give you another. A trade, of sorts." The grinning psychopath continued, alight with an evil as black as the league uniform that he wore. "I'll offer you, the one bargaining chip that I truly hold."

"Thea." Oliver nodded. He was picking at his nail again, cataloguing any objects in the room that could be used as a weapon. There was only Malcolm's bow, really.

"Yes! The promise that Thea will remain whole, that is my offer, _my_ half of the deal." He caught the twitch in the muscles of his face at the same time that Malcolm did.

"_Whole_. I'm not a monster, Oliver. I hope you don't think that I'd intentionally kill one of my children. But she's such a pretty girl, really." He shrugged. "Let's ensure that she stays that way."

"What do you want in return then?" Oliver barked back, horrified that he was considering making such a deal.

"Oh, something small and unintentional. You'd never even notice that its gone, considering most of the world doesn't even know it exists." Malcolm blinked twice and seemed to reconsider. "No actually. I think you _would_ miss her, a lot. It is hard, after all, to see without the light."

"Felicity." Her name dripped from his mouth before he'd fully given it permission to. Not that it mattered, since Malcolm knew about her anyway. _Of course Malcolm knew._

"_Yes!_" He hissed again, bearing teeth at him. "She's all I want, and Thea will be safe." He raised a hand beckoning at the door in the way Oliver had often seen his father replicate in office. "And, oh look, I already have her. Transaction complete. Good day to you, Mr. Queen."

The men who had hauled Oliver into the room stormed into the room, the door marking the wall behind it, as they deposited a squirming yellow and red pile onto the rug before they retreated back the way they'd come. Malcolm seized it by the mop of yellow closest to him and wrenched it up, letting her scramble to stand, limp as a puppet on loose string. He let her go and she fell, the strings cut, back to her stomach.

"Ah ah." He warned, and Oliver couldn't tear his eyes away from Felicity long enough to see if he spoke to her or him. "I wouldn't move if I were you!"

Felicity raised her head, blurry, unobstructed eyes finding him and her hand stretched out in his direction, her tongue touching her teeth to pronounce the l in his name.

"I said _'don't move'_!" Malcolm snapped at her, his foot colliding with her ribs, with enough force to draw a pained whimper from her. Strong arms held Oliver back from his flight path across the room despite its only other occupants being otherwise engaged. "This is the deal that I make you, Oliver. Thea's continued safety, for her bloody demise."

"You're insane." Oliver snarled. "No, Malcolm. You can not have Felicity. And you can not have Thea. Touch her again and I will rip you to pieces."

"Or," Malcolm taunted, stepping over her to get closer to him, bigger and far more threatening than he'd been before. "There is another option."

"No."

"But I have her. You have Thea. The deal is done. I can do what I like with her." Malcolm cocked his head to the side. "Don't you understand Oliver? She will die. And I will not kill her quickly.

"But there is always the second option."

"What's the second option?" Oliver growled. Behind Malcolm, Felicity pulled herself up into a slouched sitting position, listening closely when Oliver really wished that she wouldn't.

"You can do it."

Oliver turned his head sharply, pulling his eyes away from the hurt, bleeding, beautiful young woman who reached out and called for him when she needed help. How many other times had she called his name today to no prevail. "_What?_" He snapped, clicking the 't'.

"You love her." Merlyn walked away, deliberately putting his back to his enemy as the picked the girl up by the neck of her blouse, yanking her to her feet to talk past her ear at Oliver. "I'm going to kill her slowly, rip her open and pull her insides out, keep her awake and keep her screaming for days. Keep her going until her heart and mind can't hold out any longer, until she _begs_ me to let her go." His hold on her moved, tightening around her neck and lifting her off of the floor, her arms and legs hanging uselessly as she fought. "You don't want her to suffer like that. One bullet to the head, quick and painless, and you'll carry the knowledge for everyday of the rest of your very short life that you killed the one person that you killed for."

He threw her, using Felicity's small body mass against her, propelling her forward and into Oliver's chest. He steadied her, her shaking hands gripping at his shirt to hold herself up wide eyes staring up at him like she didn't quite believe that he was there.

"No, Malcolm."

"Leave with her now and I _will_ find Thea, Oliver."

"Oliver." Felicity pulled at his shirt, the fabric digging into his shoulders and he looked down at her. Her bottom lip was split, gushing blood, bruises forming over pale skin that never should have been touched in such a violent way. "Do it."

"What?" He stared down at her, fingers coming away from where they held her gently at her waist to brush away her hair from her eyes, checking her pupil size for signs of concussion. "No, Felicity."

"Oliver." She repeated breathy. "For Thea. Do it for Thea."

"We can keep Thea safe in a way that doesn't involve you dying. We have to." He told her, watching Malcolm over the the top of her head as he moved around the room, pouring himself a drink, waiting for his attack.

"He's going to kill me, or hurt Thea." She told him, her calculating brain tallying it up and not giving him a moment worth to try himself. "I'm not worth losing Thea for. And if she finds out about this deal, about you choosing her, you will lose her." She leant her cheek against him, her weight too much for shaking legs to stand on, her head too heavy to hold. "Oliver, he's going to hurt me. I'm already hurting, so please, don't let it hurt any more. I'd rather you did it out of love than a stranger out of spite."

"I don't have a gun." It was weak, he knew, but it was the last out that he had.

"You have your hands, though!" Malcolm replied, the most joyful Oliver had ever seen him. He was ignored though, in favour of the weeping blonde loyal to her last.

"I was never supposed to bury you." He sighed, trailing his thumb over the apple of her cheek, wiping away tears before their salt aggravated her open wounds. _Don't let it hurt any more._

"The other alternative was me burying you, Oliver." She sighed. "And I don't like that idea very much." He nodded, understanding her statement completely. He ran his lips over the uninjured part of her forehead and lifted her chin, fighting with himself to stay calm. Focus, Oliver.

"I love you." He told her, yet again. So many times now.

"And I love you." Her voice was quiet, so low, because those words, from her, were his. They would never be Malcolm's.

"Close your eyes for me?" She complied instantly and he copied her, bending down and grazing his mouth over hers before it could hurt her. He spun her in a half circle, only opening his eyes once her back was pressed to his chest. He met Malcolm's eye over his glass of scotch as he wrapped his arms around her in a loose choke hold, like an vicious hug.

"I love you." He whispered again in her ear as her hand came up to find his. "I love you so much. Please, forgive me."

She didn't reply. She didn't think there was anything to forgive. She didn't fight him, or struggle. _She wanted this._

He closed his eyes when Malcolm nodded, but he squeezed down around her thin neck, the same neck he's peppered with kisses and buried his nose against on sleepless nights. He'd held the back of it while he kissed her, cradled it when he'd pinned her against the wall. Run fingers against it when she first slept beside him, searching for a pulse to confirm that she was real.

He didn't open his eyes when she fell limp against him. Just squeezed them closed tighter as he dropped his head forward and kissed the back of her skull, 'I love you's and 'Forgive me's falling as the only tears he'd allow the devil to see.

* * *

><p>Written from a prompt given by one of my girls, which I neither remember nor will give you, because spoilers!<br>Ahem, sorry in advance. Xx  
>Second chapter will be up when I finish it (and considering that I haven't started it yet, that may take a while!) Xx<p> 


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